


hurry barefoot (into the garden)

by softestpink



Category: DCU (Comics), The Flash (TV 2014), Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Barry and Iris Bi Legends in Love, Best Friends in Love, F/M, Gen, Local Man Cannot Stop Bragging About Wife, Pregnancy, Reporter Iris West, Time Travel, if you're an ob/gyn don't @ me, tornado twins - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2019-10-28 02:49:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17779160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softestpink/pseuds/softestpink
Summary: They meet Caitlin and the rest of the team at the lab, because nobody can stay out of anyone else’s business apparently. Barry’s still in shock. Wally and her dad are sharing increasingly worried looks that are not helping. Iris doesn’t even have time to be annoyed that even Ralph is a part of this; she’s too busy holding her stomach like the baby’s going to fall out through the skin right there.“Whoa.” Cisco says when she first power-walks through the door. “Is it just me or did your baby fast-forward?”





	1. exclaiming dearness

**Author's Note:**

> this really is just thousands of incredibly self-indulgent words about how pregnant Iris will be. 
> 
> set in a nebulous tv show/comics/young justice universe. where iris still has a REAL. JOB.

Ten months.

 

That’s how long a normal human baby is supposed to cook in there. Iris thought it was nine until Caitlin talked to Barry and her about gestation occurring for an average of 38 weeks and a bunch of other science-y stuff. She’s still processing all of it, but the facts that scratch in her head like a broken record are:

 

  1. Normal Human Baby. Which her baby is _not_.
  2. Meta Baby could have speed.
  3. Meta Baby could have _anything_.
  4. Meta Baby could cook in there for ??? long.



 

She’s not freaking out, no matter what Barry says or how many times he rubs her shoulders on their couch. She’s not freaking _out_. She just has a few questions. Iris looks up at Caitlin.

 

“What do we do if the baby is a speedster? I know you said it’s hard to determine if it will affect the pregnancy at all, but will I have to eat more? Barry eats _so_ much. We run out of food like every day.”

 

“Hey.” She ignores him. Iris holds her stomach. It looks and feels the same as always because she’s only three weeks along, but still. Still-

 

“Oh my god, what if I don’t eat enough for the baby and it comes out wrong? There could complications with its' diet, you said. And that thing about a different time period for gestation. Could I be pregnant for the **year**? How long does it take speedbabies to cook?! I can’t be pregnant for a year, Barry.”

 

Caitlin keeps trying to cut in but it’s like Iris can’t stop talking. She doesn’t realize she’s hyperventilating until Barry gently turns her towards him.

 

“Iris. Breathe.”

 

He doesn’t put her hand on his chest because his heart beats like a hummingbird’s. He probably thinks that wouldn’t help. Iris feels for it anyway, because it’s his. Because it’s comforting. She closes her eyes and slows down her breaths in contrast to that thumpthumpthumpthumpthump. Her cheeks are wet.

 

Barry thumbs over them, cradling her face while she leans into him.

 

“Iris,” Caitlin’s using her Calming Doctor Voice, which she’d normally find patronizing but now she’s kind of thankful for. “That baby is going to be just fine. Barry, me, Joe, Cisco. We’re all going to be with you while you do this.”

 

Iris nods, feeling a little embarrassed. She did just work herself into a panic attack about to feed her baby that isn’t even like, big enough to be a grain of salt.

 

“She’s right, babe. I’m gonna father the hell out of this. Whatever you want. Whenever you want.” He promises.

 

She smiles. Whatever she wants, huh. She loves her husband. She can’t wait to finally sucker him into getting her a giant claw tub. It’s for the _baby_ now.

 

“I love you.”

 

“No, _I_ love you.”

 

“I said what I said.”

 

“Well _I_ said what _I_ -”

 

“Aaand that’s my cue.” Caitlin cuts Barry off. Killer Frost is begging you both to stop and I’ve got to get going anyway. You call me for anything, Iris. Not you, Barry.”

 

Iris cackles while he grumbles and jumps up to let her out. She hugs Caitlin at the door. It’s kind of nice to have someone with an actual medical degree worrying over her speedbaby too.

 

A week later, Iris wakes up feeling totally weird. Her stomach twists in ways she didn’t know it could and then there’s no time. It has to come out _now_ . She ends up throwing up over the side of the bed. Weirdly, immediately after, she feels great. It’s almost like being drunk. Her throat doesn’t even hurt. She doesn’t even have a chance to clean up the mess before Barry is up and handling it at superspeed. She’s gotta admit. That’s a pretty useful application.  


“Sorry, babe you didn’t have to wake up.” He waves her off and presses a glass of water into her hand before feels her forehead. Iris laughs.

 

“It’s just the baby. Morning sickness. Aren’t you supposed to be a scientist?”  

 

Morning sickness. More like all-goddamn-day sickness. Iris has to bring her laptop into the bathroom with her at work because she can’t leave the stall for more than fifteen minutes before running right back in. Linda even sits in the next stall for a while to keep her company. She doesn’t call Barry about it because she knows he worries like a mother hen, but she does google around and shoot Caitlin a message about being a vomit monster for the past eight hours. It helps that she feels completely fine after every time, if not a little hungry. No stomach cramps. No raw throat. Weird.

 

Luckily it’s not a daily affair. Iris would riot.

 

Caitlin asks her to come in to the lab the next day to run some tests, but by then Iris feels fine. She hasn’t heaved so much as one more time by her second month.

 

No, something else weird starts happening. Her body starts growing.

 

It’s supposed to, obviously. She’s building another person in there. But-

 

“Barry. Barry- Barry!” Iris, wakes up one night, panicked, because she can feel her body _stretching_ . She can feel things- her _organs_ being pushed. “Barry, the baby-”

 

He’s up in a flash, whipping the covers away from them and looking where she’s pointing. There’s a bump. There’s an _obvious_ bump.

 

“Barry why is it- what’s going on?”

 

He’s still staring, watching the way the bump in her stomach pushes up slowly. It looks like something from a horror movie, Iris can admit. But it’s _not_ . It’s her _baby_ inside her body that’s supposed to only be a month along.

 

It stops moving after a moment and Iris touches the skin tentatively. It’s firmer than usual. Iris pulls her dress down quickly, like it can cover what’s there.

 

“Iris. Look at me. It’s okay. I’m calling Caitlin.” Barry tells her. He’s holding her stomach, like maybe he thinks he can push it back down to the size it should be. She looks like she’s smuggling a soccer ball under her nightie.

 

They meet Caitlin and the rest of the team at the lab, because nobody can stay out of anyone else’s business apparently. Barry’s still in shock. Wally and her dad are sharing increasingly worried looks that are _not_ helping. Iris doesn’t even have time to be annoyed that even Ralph is a part of this; she’s too busy holding her stomach like the baby’s going to fall out through the skin right there.

 

“Whoa.” Cisco says when Iris first power-walks through the door. “Is it just me or did your baby fast-forward?”

 

He’s not wrong, it turns out. Their baby _did_ fast-forward.   

 

Caitlin does a lot of stethoscoping and humming and a little blood-testing that they all wait in anxious quiet for before she tells them not to be alarmed, but Iris is for all intents and purposes a solid ten weeks along.

 

Iris’ eyes are probably close to popping out of her head with how she’s staring at Barry. He looks half-stupid, totally lost.

 

“Is Iris going to be okay?” he asks.

 

At the same time Iris asks “Is the baby okay?”

 

Caitlin puts out her hands to reassure the both of them. “The baby _and_ Iris are both fine. Iris, your sodium is a _little_ low, so I’d encourage you to incorporate more salty foods into your diet, but that’s about it. The baby’s doing great! It’s just moving a little fast, no pun intended.”

 

Ralph gasps. “Oh my god you guys really are having a Flash Baby. Can we name it Speedy?”

 

“Oliver already has a Speedy.” Cisco says.

 

“If you call my baby Speedy, I’m firing you from the team.”

 

“You can’t fire me from the team. Barry would have my back.”

 

Barry looks between them and then shakes his head a little at Ralph to let him know he’s on his own.

 

“...Cisco and Caitlin would have my back.”

 

Caitlin’s already back in her lab and Cisco isn’t making an encouraging face.

 

“Fine. I won’t call the baby Speedy.”

 

Iris smiles smugly.

 

Her second month of pregnancy is smooth sailing, as far as Iris is concerned. She only has one more day of vomiting endlessly, in which Linda breaks and calls Barry to come and pick her up from work in the middle of the day. She eats more, which feels natural so she welcomes it, and Barry runs across the Earth to feed her foods Iris never even knew existed.

 

He shrugs when Iris asks him how he even knows what mazamorra is.

 

“Clark’s a foodie.”   

 

It always makes Iris snort when he namedrops Superman like that. She can’t believe her husband is in the _Justice League_ sometimes. He’s just so- _dorky_. She turns to him on the couch and smiles.

 

“You’re so dorky. I love you.”

 

“I’m smitten.” Barry points out. “So I won’t be offended by that first comment.”

 

“Uh-huh.” Iris says. Her belly’s bigger, twice the size it was when she woke up in her first month with a nice little bump. It’s stopped surprising her, because her baby is just going to keep throwing her curveballs. As long as Caitlin tells her it’s healthy, she’s cool.

 

One side effect she’s noticing now is that her hormone levels have gone wild. Iris feels like she’s just discovering the fun parts of her vagina all over again. She wants to fuck all the time.

 

“I was just thinking about the Justice League.”

 

He pauses the movie they’re watching.

 

“What about them?”

 

She can tell he’s gearing up for a serious talk. He knows she worries about him fighting crime on such a universal scale. That month where the entire league vanished was one of the worst months of Iris’ life.

 

“You just _know_ Superman. You call him Clark. You call The Superman of Metropolis _Clark_.”

 

Barry rolls his eyes.

 

“This is what you’re zeroing in on and you think _I’m_ the dork.”

 

Iris hits him with a pillow. She bites her lip.

 

“Is he hot? Out of the suit, I mean. I know you’ve all seen each other in civvies.”

 

Barry’s ears turn red in _seconds_. It’s pretty funny.

 

“That’s totally unprofessional.” his mouth says.

 

 _Yes_ , his eyes say.

 

“Mhmm. What are his arms like?”

 

Barry groans.

 

“Is this the hormones talking?”

 

“If it was would you tell me about _Clark’s_ arms?”

 

Barry points out that Diana’s arms are thicker, actually, and Iris breath comes faster imagining Wonder Woman bending her husband over. He sighs and cages Iris in on the arm of the couch.

 

“You’re thinking about Diana pegging me aren’t you?”

 

“Maybe. Do you think she would?”

 

“If I was not almost exclusively Iris-sexual and wore one of those toga things she’s always trying to convince Bruce to put on, I’m pretty sure she would.”

 

“Babe. That’s hot.”

 

“Oh?”

 

Iris imagines Barry wearing an artfully draped sheet that barely reaches his knees and Wonder Woman smiling and pushing his head down until he’s presentable and in the perfect position to take her strap. She thinks he’d be eager, maybe want to get thrown around a little bit, and Diana could do it.

 

“Oh my god. Yes.”

 

He kisses her neck.

 

“I once saw her lift a tank with several grown men inside of it. She could pick me up without breaking a sweat. Diana’s bossy too, when she wants to be. She could make me do anything she wanted.”  

 

Iris goes wild, nearly scratching him getting his shirt off and wiggling to get out of her shorts. She wants him to fuck her like Diana would fuck him. He should tie her up, like she would with the lasso. She wants Diana to sit on her face. Barry could watch, if Diana let him. Maybe she wouldn’t let him. Maybe she would tell Barry to close his eyes and listen like a good boy. Oh god.

 

She tells him that and Barry says “Oh my god.” and _pushes_ into her where she’s already wet and aching.

 

“Clark would be gentle.” he moans. “Diana wouldn’t.”

 

“Oh my _god_.” Iris whispers. She can’t believe they’re doing this. She can’t believe she’s so into this. This is so unethical. They are never telling anybody about this.  

 

“Come in me.” she whimpers. “I’m already so pregnant. Just come inside, please. I love it. I _love_ it. I love _you_.”

 

Barry pants and whips up her shirt. She’s not wearing a bra and he pinches her tits, hips bucking faster than he wants. He’s almost vibrating, that’s how out of control he feels. He can’t help it. God, she’s tight and warm and talking about how much she loves him-

 

“Iris, wait, I’m gonna-”

 

“Yeah, come on. Come inside.” she murmurs.

 

He does. Iris can never believe how it feels when he bursts inside of her like that. Like heat snapping and filling her up. It might be weird but she wants so keep him inside forever, safe and warm and loved in her. Barry kisses her sloppily and then murmurs something about ‘too fast’. And then he slides down and kisses her big bump and then her cunt before he opens his mouth and licks into her. Barry Allen is _nasty_. She tells him so while her toes curl and her calves clench and Barry just shoulders between her legs some more and works at her even harder.

 

Iris almost rips a handful of his hair out when she comes.

 

“In my defense,” Barry says when they’re falling asleep on the couch together. “you’re really sexy.”

 

Iris smiles and closes her eyes.

 

“Sexier than Diana’s arms?”

 

She can practically feel her husband blushing.

 

“Oh my god, I can’t believe we did that.”

 

“Mmm. Let’s make a pact to never tell them.”

 

“Pinky promise.”

 

They fuck a lot. Iris eats a lot of amazing food she’s never heard of. Barry gets called away less for missions because he’s apparently told everyone at Watchtower that they’re expecting. Iris feels bad about taking him away from people around the world he could be _saving_ but he reassures her that they’ve got so many people benched in the league it’s almost funny.

 

“But none of them can do what you do, Barry.”

 

“I’m not the only speedster, babe. Wally’s there and Clark can run almost as fast as I can.” he points out, frowning.

 

“You know that’s not what I mean” she sighs. “You aren’t just your speed. When people see you, it puts them at ease. Sometimes, even the people you’re coming to punch in the face love you a little bit, Barry. You make people want to be better.”

 

He pulls her in close.

 

“I need you. I need our baby. Everything else comes second.” He says it like he’s never thought of it any other way and it makes Iris sniffle and then break. These fucking _hormones_.

 

As Iris gets bigger, she starts wearing a lot of dresses. Most of her clothes were form-fitting and made for power-walking into meetings with authority. Now she walks around in flowing cotton and chiffon gowns that don’t press on her stomach. Also, there’s the upside of easy access. You have to piss all the time when you’re pregnant, apparently.

 

“You look like you should be in a Jane Austen novel.” Linda tells her one day at work. “Or waiting back at the ranch while Barry takes the tractor out to meet up with the boys at a bonfire.”

 

“I hate everything about what you’ve just said to me.” Iris says without looking up from her screen. “Also, these things are great. Lots of air-flow. You should invest.”

 

She’s knee-deep in research about the city’s sewage flooding claims in the past eight months. Being a reporter always means having the _weirdest_ search history.  

 

The fourth month of pregnancy is when things start to get intense.

 

First, she and Barry get big news about the baby that, surprisingly, does not come from Caitlin. They’re at Barry’s dad’s house, throwing a party for Mr. Allen’s birthday when Barry gets a call from someone. He’s using words like “speedster” and “future tech” so she assumes it’s Justice League business. Iris is about to ask him if he’s heading out when a white and red blur crashes through the front door and boy in a supersuit starts chatting with Barry at the speed of light. All she can catch is the name ‘Bart Allen’. He looks familiar, big goggles highlighting his wide brown eyes. He looks like-

 

“Hi Gramma!” he says to Iris and she looks behind herself, confused. He runs to hug her. “Love you too!”

 

She splutters as he runs over to Henry.

 

“You must be Mr. Allen! Guess that makes you my great grandad! Makes sense, you look pretty old!”  

 

“Bart!” Barry hisses.

 

“Who are you?” Iris asks pointedly.

 

“Oh. Sorry, I’m your grandson from the future!”

 

That’s it. He looks a _lot_ like Barry. Iris stares at the line of nose. His ears. It’s _uncanny_.

  
“My _what_?”


	2. honeyed heaviness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grandkids from the future can get a little buckwild, but they have their reasons. Sometimes, your wife looks really good while she's making a mess of your living room and Barry can't be held accountable for that. Iris should work for the FBI. That's the level of talent. That's the level of genius.

“Well.” Mr. Allen says, “It checks out. The baby definitely carries the meta gene. Specifically the meta speed gene.”  

 

“Hi, Dad!” Bart says, leaning close to Iris’ stomach. “Hi, Auntie Dawn!” 

 

_ Wait.  _

 

“ _ What _ ?!” Iris says again. 

 

“There are  _ two  _ in there?!” Barry’s eyes are as wide as hers. 

 

“We’re having twins?”

 

“Oops.” Bart says. “Spoilers.”

 

“Careful kid.” and now Wally is here, from seemingly nowhere. Goddamn  _ speedsters _ . “If you are what you say you are, revealing too much information could throw the entire timeline out of whack. You might end up not existing at all.” 

 

Iris is still reeling, pressing one hand to her stomach. Two babies. That could explain why it feels like she’s expanding every time she breathes. Only four months along and she’s as big as a house. She gets a call from her boss and goes to take it in another room, but before she finishes taking a step, Bart is in front of her. 

 

“Don’t answer that.” He looks scared and Iris wants to comfort him instinctively. She looks to Barry instead, confused. “I mean, why interrupt the family reunion?” 

 

He smiles. 

 

Barry frowns and Wally speeds over to grab Bart. 

 

“Ignore him.” he says, smiling reassuringly. 

 

Iris picks up. She is going to let everyone in this house that can run at Mach 5 handle this while she does _ her _ job. 

 

It’s her new boss, Pete. Iris likes him because everyone else treats her like she’s a piece of china because she’s pregnant, but he still lets her come in and chase whatever story calls her name. Barry does  _ not  _ get along with him, but she likes that someone in her workplace supports her hunger for catching the truth and stringing it up for everyone to see. He’s absolutely frantic right now, claiming there’s some new meta downtown blowing up the place and calling for Barry’s head. They’re evacuating citizens. Iris would book it downtown this second if she wasn’t carrying a person- sorry,  _ two people  _ good God- inside of her. Also, Bart’s concerned expression is needling at her. He knows something.

 

Barry obviously doesn’t know if the kid’s telling the truth about who he says he is, but Iris feels a  protective streak welling up inside whenever she looks at him. It could just be her mom instincts kicking in, but she believes him. 

 

“Barry, there’s a new meta in Central City blowing up whole buildings. They’re evacuating downtown.” 

 

Barry is out of his civilian clothes and into his suit before Iris finishes blinking. 

 

“You know it’s so weird that you do that in front of me.” Wally says. “I can  _ see  _ you taking off your clothes. You can’t just get your dick out in public like that.” 

 

“He was wearing briefs!” Bart defends. “Grandpa, don’t go. Just let the Justice League handle this one!” 

 

“Oh my god.” Barry says. “I’m leaving. I’ll deal with you later.”  

 

He turns to Iris and his father. 

 

“Back in a flash.” he winks. Barry’s gone before she can roll her eyes. 

 

“Back in a flash.” Bart repeats. “Wow. How often does he say that?”

 

Everyone sighs. 

 

“Too often.” they say. 

 

Bart and Wally end up leaving too. It’s no surprise. She’s never seen a speedster run anywhere but  _ toward  _ danger and it’s always nice to know that Barry’s won’t be alone out there. Mr. Allen helps her into a chair, because she’s big enough for people to do that now. 

 

“One of these days I’m going to get you to call me Henry or Dad, Iris. You’ll see.” 

 

“Ugh. You know I’d disintegrate if I ever tried to call you by your first name, Mr. Allen. It’s not how I was raised.” 

 

“I think my son might’ve married the most stubborn young woman on Earth.” 

 

“Now that, Mr. Allen, is a fact. Can I get some more of that cake?”

 

The babies start moving and all hell breaks loose. Bart’s been sent back to his time by Barry and Cisco. He stayed with them for a hellraising week that made Iris more exhausted than she’s ever been. It turns out the two of them are  _ not  _ equipped to house a fourteen year old for more than a night really, let alone a motormouth fourteen year old that’s too curious about the past, too careless about the future, and able to run anywhere he pleases in a second. Everything is either 'crash' or 'not crash'. For example, Iris' burnt eggs and undercooked bacon are 'crash', while the bedtime they come up with for him is ' _so_ not crash'. Town limits are apparently extra not crash, because Barry leaves work about a million times to come collect him from making a scene at the Burj Khalifa or writing his name at the foot of the Lincoln Memorial. Everyone in D.C. knows the Flash has a grandkid running around now. He makes the news almost nightly, a fun new spectacle for the world to witness. Keeping him in the house is like trying to trap a mouse. 

 

Bart seems to have absolutely zero concern about changing the timeline and Iris has dealt with enough speedsters to know that when they mess around with the future or the past, everything’s better when they keep their mouths shut. He’s too smart to believe he’s not affecting their reality in any capacity. In fact, if anything, Bart seems like he  _ wants  _ this timeline to change. 

 

“Bart,” she tells him on the day that Cisco and Barry open the portal to get him back home. “whatever happens in the future that scares you so much- I promise we’re going to fix it.”

 

He runs to her and in the first honest move Iris has seen him make since he crashed here, Bart hugs her close. She can tell he’s crying only because of the wet marks seeping into her dress. 

 

“Man, you’re as smart as Grandpa said. I don’t know if you can, Gramma, but please- please, even if it means I’m never alive. You gotta try.”  

 

She holds him for as long as she can. Whatever this boy’s going through decades from now- it’s bad enough that he’s begging his clueless ancestors to sacrifice his fourteen year old life. Iris didn’t know how to feel about being a grandmother before she’s even become a mother, but now all she wants is to keep him here and keep him safe. She knows she can’t. They’ve got enough paradoxes running around as it is. This family, jeez. 

 

“We’ll make it better, Bart. We always do.” 

 

They will.

 

“Okay, Gramma.” He sounds too defeated to believe her, but she doesn’t blame him. He pats her stomach. “Take care of Dad and Auntie Dawn.” 

 

She smiles. As much of a headache as he was, she’s sad to see him go. He has a moment with Barry that makes Iris melt, really. She can’t hear what they’re saying because when their mouths move that fast it’s like listening to a recording on 12x speed, but she can see it clearly when their grandson hugs Barry and he finally hugs back, resting his chin on Bart’s head. Reassuring. 

 

He’s going to be a good dad. 

 

The kicking starts right after he leaves. As in  _ right  _ after. Bart blinks out of existence and in the same second Iris feels something move inside of her. It isn’t the same as when she can feel them growing, or when she has gas. No, it feels more like one of her organs doing the wave inside of her. At first, she thinks it might be something weird she ate. Then it feels like a meatball sub is stretching out in her womb. 

 

It’s not a meatball sub. Iris feels a very distinct kick, as if one of them agrees that no, they are not sandwiches. 

 

“Oh my god.” Iris says. 

 

“Yeah, I know, I thought he would never leave either.” Barry says. 

 

“No. No, Barry, oh my God. Get over here now.” 

 

To his credit, he runs over so fast her hair blows back. 

 

“It moved. It moved inside of me, Barry.” She grabs his hand. Iris wishes he could feel her bare skin, but she’s wearing a dress and she’d rather not flash Cisco. She settles for just pressing it into her center of her stomach. Barry’s fingers are gentle through the thin cotton. He always worries about being too rough with the three of them.

 

“I- I don’t know which one, but one of them-” she feels it again. A push on her stomach from the inside. Barry’s mouth drops open.

 

“I felt that.” he whispers. Behind him, Cisco looks almost just as awestruck. 

 

“They’re already kicking? All the blogs said this would start months from now. The baby’s not supposed to be bigger than a cantaloupe right now. Even accounting for the speedbaby rate of growth, their bodies shouldn’t be this-” 

 

Cisco pauses. 

 

“Yes, I might be a little too invested in Baby Newsflash.” 

 

“There’s two of them, actually.” Iris tells him. She feels touched that he’s been reading mommy blogs for her. 

 

“There’s  _ what _ ?!” 

 

“Yeah, dude, Bart told us.” 

 

“Your grandson from the future told you that you were having twins.” 

 

Iris nods. This family is about rolling with the curveballs.

 

“You realize that Bart being here could’ve changed  _ anything _ . How do we know for sure that there are still two in there?”

 

“I had been thinking about that.” 

 

Iris frowns and looks down. At four months, she’s big enough that just bending over is an all day affair. “There  _ better _ be two in there.”  

 

It takes two days for Cisco and Caitlin to confirm that there are, in fact, two babies in there. Iris was content with scheduling an ultrasound until Cisco told her he could do her one better actually. The device he gives her looks like something out of Doctor Who or one of those other science fiction movies he and Barry are always flipping out over.  

 

Iris plays it at home, a flickering pale purple projection of each of the twins in her womb, too big for four months. Iris thought she’d gotten through all the revelations she was going to have about cooking up two new people for the world, but the second she sees them- she loses it.

 

Barry’s the one that cries, quiet tears matched with a blinding smile before he kisses up Iris’ fingers to her wedding ring, to her wrist, wet, shaking kisses of pure appreciation. Meanwhile, Iris is entranced. She touches the air around the hologram and then touches her stomach and doesn’t have the words for how the world is brand new again. 

 

Those are her babies. The ones growing in her. The babies she and Barry made from love. Her babies. 

 

She watches it for an hour before her father gently tells her that her phone has been ringing for a while now. He takes the projector from her and stares at it himself, at his grandchildren.

 

It’s an emotional day. 

 

Once they start kicking, it’s like a nonstop party in there. Iris learns to differentiate when one is awake and the other is asleep. For one thing, if they’re both awake, her stomach feels like a live bounce-house. Barry jokes that they’re taking after their mother with all of the boxing. She says it’s kicking because they’re getting ready to run around the world like him. She starts reading out loud before bed because it seems to calm them and if she doesn’t get a full five hours of sleep soon she’s going to collapse. 

 

She can tell Barry’s worried about her. Worried enough to have Caitlin checking up on her nonstop. She’s started losing weight, something that she hadn’t seen coming at all. It does kind of scare her. It’s the opposite of what’s supposed to happen when you’re this far along, she knows, and she’s been eating as much as she can but it seems like nothing is enough. Caitlin tells her the babies’ metabolisms are growing fast and they’re sucking up whatever nutrients they can from her. Because their meta genes are definitely a factor, she’s experiencing an accelerated version of pretty much everything. 

 

She and Cisco had come up with a timeline until birth for the baby but now that there are  _ babies  _ everything needs to be reworked. The bottom line is Iris has no idea when she’s going to pop, and these babies are  _ ravenous _ . 

 

“So you’re saying if I don’t eat more these babies are going to eat me?” she jokes one afternoon. She’s at S.T.A.R. Labs, seriously thinking of asking Barry to just run a blanket back from home because she’s so exhausted. Walking takes a lot out of her these days. Cisco and Caitlin trade a look that’s more serious than she’d like. 

 

“They need calcium more than anything, but you’ll definitely have to give them at least double the portions you’re already having now. If you don’t, Iris, you’ll start to suffer from hypocalcemia among other things. You also need more protein.”

 

Iris rubs her stomach. Barry is pacing, wearing grooves into the floor of the lab. 

 

“I’m already stuffing myself. I thought the babies were doing fine. They’ll get the nutrients one way or another, though. Right?” 

 

Caitlin nods.

 

Barry’s quiet on the way home. He’d carried her to the car himself and Iris had been shocked to notice how easy it was for him. Superspeed aside, Barry’s pretty strong. Right now, he’s brooding though, and it makes Iris upset to see him that way. It’s not in Barry’s nature to brood. He’s about to worry himself to death and she’ll be all alone to take care of their two hungry ass kids. She tells him that. He doesn’t laugh. 

 

“Iris, you barely sleep. You walk around at night, trying to get them sleepy enough to let you rest and then by the time you’re back in bed, it’s time for you to get up for work. Which you’re barely pushing through. Please, just let me call the paper and request maternity leave for you. I’m worried, of course I’m worried. The babies are eating you up. You aren’t getting enough sleep. I’ll bring you more food, I swear. I know you get nauseous sometimes. I’ll see if I can cook something up at the lab with Cisco and Caitlin for that. I just need you and the babies to be safe. No fractions. No compromise.”

Iris holds his hand. She can feel her eyelids drooping, but she forces herself to stay awake.

 

“Okay, babe. I’ll call Pete. I won’t leave, but I can work from home until the team figures out how to feed your Twilight babies.”

 

“Don’t make me laugh while I’m worried about you.” 

 

That night, Barry whispers against her stomach and rubs body butter into her stretched skin all night and there are no kicks. Iris sleeps until the middle of the day. It feels like heaven.   

 

One thing Iris has come to appreciate about her pregnancy is that she doesn’t seem to have most of the aches and pains most mothers write about. No swollen ankles, no cramped thighs. Her back generally doesn’t hurt. She doesn’t get acid reflux. The only source of her discomfort is the exhaustion from the two of them being up so often. Iris also learns of another side effect when she steps on a paperclip in the house and her bleeding toe closes up within moments. 

 

“Whoa.” she whispers. 

 

She calls Barry home from work in her excitement. 

 

“Watch!” Iris scratches at the back of her hand until the skin opens up and he speeds over with a cloth and an exclamation of “Iris!” 

 

She bats his hand away. “Just watch!” 

 

Her skin closes up smoothly, right in front of both of them. Barry gapes. 

 

“Our babies gave you superhealing.”

“I’m invulnerable.” Iris grins. It might be an overstatement. Still, she’s weirdly proud of them. She looks down. “Good work, guys.” 

 

“I wouldn’t go chasing down supervillains yet.” Barry says. “But this is pretty amazing. We should tell Caitlin.” 

 

They call her and the revelation is the coolest thing Cisco’s ever heard, just from judging the excited yelling in the background. Caitlin says she was just about to text Iris, actually. She’s come up with a plan that could help the Hungry Babies situation. 

 

“Basically if we give you an IV drip on a schedule, I think we could get the babies to stop eating you up from the inside out. They’d be nourished quickly and you wouldn’t have to keep eating until you’re nauseous.”

 

Iris is down for it as soon as she hears the words “nourished quickly”. It really is nice to have a team and a family helping her with the two people forming inside of her. She almost starts blubbering about that in the car. Usually Barry is the crier out of the two of them, but ever since she got knocked up, Iris has been on an emotional roll. Cecile assures her that’s normal. She cried all the time every time she was pregnant, especially with Joe’s baby. 

 

Iris is glad, but she will never admit that a life insurance commercial about a dog had her snotting and sobbing in the bathroom for fifteen minutes the other day. 

 

The IV drips take some getting used to. After a few days, they have to start rigging up a setup that Iris can walk with around the lab while she works. Then, Iris starts to feel the benefits. Firstly, she stops feeling ravenous, like, all the damn time. Secondly, she starts filling out everywhere again. Her hips get bigger, her cheeks round out, her thighs get thicker, and her breasts start spilling out of her bras. Her hair grows like water pouring down her back. She thinks of cutting it, but Barry likes to braid it before she sleeps and that always feels nice.

 

“Oh my god. I thought when people said pregnant people glow that was a made-up thing.” Ralph says to her one day. Iris laughs. “Iris, you look like- you know, one of those books that opens up and the fairytale characters come to life.” 

 

“Oh yeah, those books.” Cisco deadpans. 

 

“If you weren’t married-” Ralph says, ignoring him. 

 

Barry clears his throat pointedly. “Well, she is married, so.” 

 

Iris thinks all of this is hilarious. She’s been feeling better too, stronger. She doesn’t tire so easily. It’s really been affecting her work ethic. Cases that she’d been falling asleep on during due diligence are interesting her again. Her mind is moving faster, she can tell. She isn’t stalling on the same thoughts for hours. She thinks the extra food has been helping the babies a lot, too. They’re still active, but not so much that she can’t sleep at night now.    

 

Everywhere she goes, people stop to tell her how much motherhood suits her. Iris can see where they’re coming from. She’s mellowed out as she in the last days of her fourth month. She isn’t crying at the drop of a hat anymore, thank God. Barry tells her one day that he thinks she’s exuding her own forcefield of peace at this point. 

 

She agrees and tells him it’s because she just came out of the bathroom. 

 

“The day we stop making piss and poop jokes- that’s when we lose the romance.”

 

“Piss and poop?” Iris shakes her phone at him. “Babe, don’t get me even more hot and bothered. I’m already on hold with public services.” 

 

“Oh?”

 

Barry comes up behind her and moves her hair over a shoulder to kiss her neck. Only when Iris closes her eyes and sighs does he murmur “Baby, let’s talk bowel movements.” into her ear. Iris splutters laughing and shoves his face away. He’s so  _ gross _ .

 

He’s also a sucker because she might be carrying precious cargo, but that does nothing to stop Iris’ mischievous streak from jumping out. Barry’s Peace Forcefield talk is relatively true compared to the emotional rollercoaster she’d been just a few weeks ago, but Iris is still an investigative machine. A truth-catcher. A rebel. A real Ginger Thompson. 

 

Barry’s been careful to avoid the veritable mess of books, overturned mugs, candles, and knick-knacks she has spread out over the living room floor in a perfect replica of Keystone City. 

 

“I know this is for a story babe, but I need the spoon you have taped between the playing cards.”

 

“That’s my bridge.” she sits on the floor near the Keystone Public Library and pushes his hand away. “Find your own bridge. There are more in the kitchen.”

 

“Iris, you have  _ all five  _ of the wooden spoons.” 

 

“...there are a lot of bridges in Keystone.”   

 

He sighs. “I should’ve married a boring author that sits at home and writes smutty werewolf romances for Harper Impulse. No one steals spoons to write about supernatural humping.” 

 

“I’m choosing to ignore that you can namedrop trashy erotica publishers that easily.”

 

Barry exaggerates a sigh and kneels to sit behind her. She wiggles back into his arms and lets him rub her tummy. He’s not slick; he just wants to feel the babies kick. Iris thinks they’re asleep right now.  

 

“You’re also choosing to ignore the spoon deficit you’ve caused in the kitchen.” he points out.

 

“Mmm. You don’t need to marry anybody else. I’ll write you all the porn you want, babe.”

 

Barry rocks them side to side a little. “She multitasks. Busts crime with floor dioramas. Steals the spoons. Writes me horny books. Iris, you have to leave room for the competition.” 

 

She laughs and tilts her head back to kiss his jaw.

 

“Nope.”  

 

He shifts to kiss her mouth. 

 

“Mmm. Understandable. I’m a catch.”

 

“Yeah.” She’s getting distracted. “My husband that loves it when I trash the living room floor.” 

 

Barry’s getting distracted too, tracing lightning bolts down her chest with one hand and then fiddling with the laces of her dress. 

 

“Trash anything you want. Give you all the spoons you want.” he breathes. He's making no sense while tugs at the strings.

 

“Sir, I’m a married woman” 

 

Barry puts his teeth on her neck the way she likes, a little bite before he kisses the skin. Jesus.

 

“Mmm. I don’t think your man will mind.” 

 

He’s straight up groping her through the top of her gown, fingers pulling her sleeve down so one of her tits spills out. She stopped wearing bras most of the time. Along with doubling in size, her breasts got crazy sensitive around the third month of pregnancy. He’s gentle when he pinches her nipple but it still feels like the edge of too much, a shock that makes her hips jerk. Iris squeezes her legs together. She almost wants to pull up her dress and start touching herself, that’s how hazy and horny Barry has her. 

 

He’s a step ahead of her, too invested in teasing to give her what she really wants though. Barry runs his hand down, down to cup the underside of her breast, down and over the children he put into her, down further to where she wishes he would just push inside of her already. He presses through the chiffon, hard enough for the friction to make her breath faster. 

 

“Right there?” he whispers. “Is it there, baby?” 

 

Iris screws her eyes shut and shakes her head against his chest. Her skin feels too tight when she reaches down to correct the pressure, moves his fingers just a little to the left and down and- 

 

“-unh.”

 

“Yeah, always getting it done when I can’t, huh babe?” 

 

“Hate you. Gonna get you back for this.” Iris groans and he laughs, rubbing in slow, steady circles. She’s going to flood her panties if he doesn’t stop. He pauses, but before Iris can nudge him, Barry’s hand starts to vibrate. 

 

“Oh- oh my god. Oh my  _ god _ .” Iris has his wrist in a death grip, while she tries to not to buck wildly. She squirms and her foot kicks out, taking down a couple residential homes. “I’m-”

 

“What? You’re what?” 

 

Iris whines and shoves against his fingers. He’s perfect to her. He’s so good to her. 

 

“Inside, please. Please, please.” 

 

“Ok.” he murmurs. “Okay, babe.” 

 

Relief trickles over her. He’s gonna give her what she needs. She starts to turn and get up to climb over his lap but he stops her. 

 

“Not yet.” 

 

Iris is seriously gonna kill him if she gets no dick out of this when he started it. He laughs, but has his hand under her dress and down her panties in seconds. Her jaw drops. Her body is a minefield with how sensitive everything is these days.

 

“Come on. Inside inside inside in me-” 

 

He slips two fingers into her and she’s so wet and soft that he slips them right back out and goes for three. Iris moans when he finds her clit with his thumb but then reaches up over it to push against her mound, firm. 

 

“Please. Please-” 

 

“Please what?” Barry kisses her. He doesn’t want an answer. He’s being a dick. Iris hates how wet she gets for that. 

 

“Give it to me.” 

 

“Always.” 

 

He goes at her hard. She can feel the way his wrist locks and the strength he pours into her when he finds a pace that has her gasping. He’s so deep, fingers longer than hers. Iris screws her eyes shut again; she can’t look at them when he’s like this. Adoring and a little smug while he gives it to her. Barry changes the angle of his hand, tilts his fingers inside of her while he still rubs at the top of her mound and oh-

 

“Oh  _ shit _ .” 

 

“Can you do it for me, baby?” 

 

Iris opens her eyes, can feel her eyebrows coming together and her voice leaving her throat before she gives it permission. It’s there, coiling up inside her. Too tight. Too much. 

 

“ _ Barry _ .” She can feel her eyes welling up. Barry’s usually the Sex Crier, but whenever he does this it just shakes her to her core. She grabs his arm with both hands, nails digging in the skin. “I can’t.”

 

“You can. Just one time, babe, just once.” He vibrates his fingers and Iris chokes on a scream. Her eyes roll up and the heat comes splashing out of her, a release that makes her thighs shake and her hips jerk up into nothing as Barry pulls his fingers away. Forget her panties, the dress is ruined. The floor is ruined.         

 

Iris drops into the mess, catching her breath. Barry’s kissing her, not even a second later, all over. Her face, her hair, her chin, her chest. His hand is soaked and it makes her want to cover her face in embarrassment. Jesus. 

 

“Beautiful. Gorgeous, gorgeous when you do that. Every time.” 

 

Her face is on  _ fire.  _

 

“Hello?” 

 

The sound makes them both freeze. Iris looks down at her phone, the speaker button clearly on. 

 

“Oh,  _ shit _ .” 

 

She scrambles to end the call. 

 

“Oh my  _ god _ .” 

 

“Oops.” Barry says. Iris is mortified. He looks mildly regretful. 

 

“Barry, a public service worker could’ve just heard us getting down on my fake Keystone diorama.” 

 

“I don’t think they know about the diorama” he points out, then straightens up in alarm. “Iris, what time is it?” 

 

She checks her laptop. 

 

Oops. She hops up to kiss his nose.

 

“You’ve got some boss-yelling to hear. Sorry, babe. Tell Singh I said hi.” 

 

Barry groans and speeds back to work, where his lunch ended about half an hour ago. Iris looks down at her ruined model. Her foot is square in the middle of a circle of tuna cans representing a ring of abandoned chemical plants. 

 

Huh.

 

Iris smiles. She has an idea and she’ll need Ralph.


	3. dampness and recklessness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's some Nancy Drew-ing that goes wrong and some revelations are had and some blubbering is done and some unfortunate fake names are made. Pregnancy is challenging.

“Why can’t Barry do this, again?”

 

“Shh. That’s not one of the questions I wrote down for you.”

 

Iris and Ralph are at a city hall meeting in a city they decidedly do _not_ live in, a fact that Ralph has been helpful enough to point out several times. Iris is wearing trenchcoat with a silk scarf tied underneath her chin and truly enormous sunglasses while Ralph, next to her, is dressed like a normal person.  

 

“You look like you’ve murdered your husband in cold blood and you’re on the run after stealing all of his money. Is that why Barry’s not here? Because I have to say that’s a bad call. I’m pretty sure you make more than him and-”

 

Iris slaps his shoulder with a pamphlet welcoming them to _lovely Keystone City, home of the world’s deepest deep-dish pizza_!

 

“Do you have the questions memorized yet?” she hisses as the city officials putter onto stage one after another. The meeting will begin any minute now.

 

“Yeah yeah.” he sighs, pulling out the notepad she gave to him on the drive over. Iris’ handwriting is almost as bad as her husband’s and he tells her that.

 

“Keep your voice down.” Iris whispers. “For all intents and purposes, _you_ are my husband.”

 

Ralph gasps, scandalized.

 

“Iris... so soon after the funeral? What will the society papers think?” Iris glares at him through her ridiculous sunglasses. She’ll never admit that she just likes them.

 

“For the love of god, will you please just get ready to ask about potholes?”

 

“Okay, okay.” he holds up his hands. “Relax, Elizabeth Taylor we’ve got this in the bag.”

 

Iris settles into her chair and then pulls out a hand mirror which Ralph scoffs at.

 

“You’re really getting into this role.”

 

“Yeah, you should be too, Mr. Moneypenny.” She definitely feels that he’s not taking this seriously enough. Yes, she’s a little over-prepared but this is, for all intents and purposes, research.  

 

“Sorry, what?”

 

“Did you not read my preface notes? We’re the Moneypennys.”

 

“Oh my God.” Ralph says, too loud. A kid that looks too bored to be here, stares at them a couple of rows away. Iris flashes him a charming, motherly smile.

 

“You look like a kidnapper. This name is the worst.” Ralph says. The man is an expert at complaining.

 

In her defense, it’s incredibly hard to make up names on the fly and she had just rewatched Skyfall with Barry when she was writing.

 

“We’re _so_ going to get caught. You look like _that_ and we’re called the Moneypennys. This could _not_ get any worse.”

 

“Okay, well you try making up a name on the spot and see if-” Iris’ whispering is interrupted by a tap on a microphone coming from a podium that stands at the front of the room. An elderly man with a very obvious toupee welcomes everyone to the city of Keystone’s weekly meeting to address the concerns of citizens regarding any community issues. Everyone is welcome to share their concerns, no matter how small.

 

There’s a smattering of clapping among the audience, which Iris notes is moderately large. That helps. It’ll be harder for people to remember their faces. The floor won’t be open to general questions until the end of the announcements so they’ll have to wait half an hour to ask anything, but Iris figures it’s a good time to scope out the city officials.

 

They all sit on the stage, unassuming in their suits and conservative hairstyles. None of them look particularly suspicious, but then political criminals never do. Ralph tells her that he will literally fall asleep if he has to listen to ‘this old guy say one more thing about charter school music program funding’.

 

After thirty minutes during which Iris gets up to pee three separate times and the renovation of the community center’s gymnasium is hotly debated, it’s finally time for general questions. She elbows Ralph vigorously until he wakes up from his half-sleep state and hisses “ok, ok” before he stands up.

 

“Yes, hello, my name is- Francis. Francis Stoner. ‘Course my friends call me Frank.”

 

Iris slaps a hand over her glasses and they dig into her nose. _Idiot._ Ralph continues.  

 

“My wife and I are recent movers to this fine city.”

 

She’s going to kill him. This was not in the script or the notes.

 

“We live in the uhh-” Ralph pauses to pull the notepad Iris gave him earlier out of his pocket. She can’t believe he’s an investigator. That’s the job he gets paid to do in his daily life.

 

“-area near the abandoned factory on Hazelwood. Now, there’s been a hell of a lot of potholes all over town we’ve been ignoring but it’s a personal hell we’re living in down there. The things are everywhere you turn. We can barely pull out of our own damn driveway. There's flooding. Now I don’t know who’s in charge of this sort of thing, but we’ve also got sewage spilling into the streets sometimes at night. I think we deserve to know what the hell’s going on.”

 

“Yeah!” a voice pitches in from the crowd and a woman that isn’t as pregnant as Iris, but still definitely carrying stands up.

 

“Mr. Stoner is right.” she has the air of a woman that doesn’t take well to being lied to. It could be the baby hormones that make her seem like such a force to be reckoned with. Iris likes her already. “I live off of Hazelwood and Turner and it’s gone from bad to worse. Every week at these meetings, you all say you’re working on the problem. Y’all won’t even tell us what the problem _is_ , mind you, and every time we call the hotline there’s a problem with the connection.”

 

There are a few more disgruntled calls and supportive “she’s right!”s.

 

The man at the podium raises a hand to try and calm the people.

 

“Everyone, please. As we’ve said before, this is an issue that unfortunately cannot be resolved within mere weeks.”

 

Ralph sits back down next to her and whispers to Iris that yeah, this guy’s definitely in on it.

 

“Really?!” she hisses back. “The _Stoners?!_ ”

 

Ralph looks abashed. “Ok, you were right. It’s really hard to make up names in the moment.”

 

“And what was with the accent?”

 

“Hey, Frank Stoner is a man of the people.”

 

“Well, he sounds like a man of the corn.”

 

“Oh, so now everyone from the south is a farmer? That’s hillbillyist. Also, I believe the correct term is maize.”

 

Iris rolls her eyes.

 

“ _Why_ did I ask you to do this?” she murmurs.

 

“Because you knew I’d get results.” Ralph smirks. “And I can prove it. Johnny Talks-a-lot at the podium is our guy I’m telling you. A couple of the others on stage look like they might be in on it, but this guy’s sweating like a pig. Not sure it goes as high up as the mayor.”

 

Iris had come to the same conclusion earlier. She’s a little impressed. Just a little.

 

“You probably already knew that, though. I don’t see why you couldn’t ask this stuff, honestly.”

 

“Because” Iris whispers. “If this story means what I think it does, these people are dangerous. And if these people work with who I think they work with, I need to stay anonymous as long as I can.”

 

“...that was _incredibly_ mysterious. My God. I have so much professional respect for you right now. I kind of want to give you my office. If you weren’t already married to the paper, I’d be on one investigative knee.”     

 

“No thanks. I’ve seen your office. The view sucks.”

 

“That’s fair. I’m waiting for the guy across the hall to give in to his diabetes.”

 

Iris gives him a look.

 

“What? It’s not in poor taste. The guy’s a jerk.”  

 

They’re some of the firsts to leave the meeting when it’s over, as predictably none of the questions about the holes popping up around town are answered or explained and everyone leaves more disgruntled than they came.

 

“They have to realize the people aren’t going to be silenced for long. Look at all of these angry residents. These people were pissed enough to show up to a city hall meeting, Ralph. _Nobody_ cares about these, usually. Something like this goes on for too long, it’s going to get nasty. This isn’t a long con. Whatever’s happening near those factories is going to reach some sort of culmination _soon_ and _we_ need to be there before it happens.” Iris whispers furiously while Ralph shepherds her into the car outside. She whips off the scarf and the glasses and tosses the trenchcoat into the backseat.

 

“Alright, next step- we go home, Francis.”

 

Ralph squints at her while he puts the car in drive. “Why do I feel like that doesn’t mean we go to our actual homes?”

 

Iris stares, waiting for him to catch up.

 

“Oooh, we’re going to check out the houses near the factories aren’t we?”

 

She smiles, too manic for his taste.

 

“Yes, Ralph. Yes we are.”

 

The drive is slower than she’d like it to be because Ralph refuses to gun it because “Iris, I know you’re deep into this story and your cover right now, but you’re still carrying two people inside of you and also Barry and your dad would kill me if they knew we were even going over thirty-five right now.”

 

Iris tries to relax and rubs at her bump. It’s more of a mountain now, really.

 

“My babies are alright,” she says “ _aren’t you babies_? Aren’t you alright, my little supers?” she adds the last part in a whisper. They haven’t been kicking much today, which is good but she worries. She’s so used to them playing soccer with each other in there.

 

Ralph pulls them onto a street that looks a little like where Iris grew up, the same quaint flowers on the porch of every home. Nice lawns. A couple of trees. Shame the enormous potholes and flooding ruins the scene. They have to park away from the large puddle in the middle of the street, near a few other cars that have clearly relocated for the same reason. Iris would be _furious_ if she lived here and had to deal with this every day. She tries to get into character and channel that.

 

Turns out trying to get information out of people goes swimmingly if you’re the neighborhood’s new expecting mother. People are sympathetic to anyone that looks like they shouldn’t be on their feet for more than five minutes. It stuns Iris just how big she’s gotten that everyone seems to think she’s going to pop at any moment. It just reinforces the alienness of her pregnancy. She’s only been carrying for five months.   

 

The general consensus is that everyone knows the city officials are waving them off, but they all seem to think it’s a money thing.

 

“Our mayor’s just cheap as hell.” a woman who’s been living in Keystone for seventy years tells them.

 

Iris takes pictures of the street damage with her phone and then nudges Ralph to let him know that it’s time for the Big Reveal. She wants to go to the source. She wants to know what the fuck’s up with those abandoned plants.

 

“You don’t think we’re jumping the gun a little bit?” Ralph asks her when he starts up the car. Iris rolls her eyes.

 

“Ralph, you’re an investigator but i’m an investigative _reporter_. There’s a time clock on what I do at the paper. All the people that live in this neighborhood don’t just want answers. They want a head served on a platter by Sunday and I’m gonna give it to them.”

 

-

 

So maybe visiting the plants was a mistake.

 

“I can admit that maybe, in this particular situation, we might’ve jumped the gun.” Iris admits with wide eyes.

 

“You _think_?”

 

Ralph looks like he’s about to have a conniption. Iris thinks that has more to do with the gun pointed at his head than the fact that he probably really, _really_ wants to say “I told you so”.

 

The great news is that Iris found her story. **Mad Scientists Run Underground Meta-Testing Ring.** _That_ is a headline with stopping power.  

 

The bad news is that a privately hired security guard caught the both of them with their investigative pants down. It’s a little bit Ralph’s fault. She _told_ him to be the lookout.

 

The worst news is that she’s in plastic cuffs tied to the sink in one of the labs while a man in a pristine, white lab coat advances toward her with a syringe.

 

“You move a muscle and your wife will be the newest test subject, _Mr. Stoner_.”

 

Iris makes eye contact with Ralph and knows they’re both thinking the same thing. The guard was at the meeting. Maybe the scientists were too.

 

“Hello. Dr. Harbor. Nice to meet you two. I’m actually really sorry about all of this unpleasantness.” the guy with the needle is telling Iris. He is uncomfortably casual. “Your condition, though.”

 

He sighs. It takes Iris a moment to realize he’s _excited_.

 

“You see, we hadn’t even started human testing yet. That’s phase two. We’ve had successes with the gorillas, but here you stumble in with-”

 

He gestures to her belly and Iris frowns and tries to back up.

 

“Do you realize how _lifechanging_ it will be for us to study children injected with dark matter _from birth_? You are a miracle dropped right in our laps, Mrs. Stoner.”

 

Iris _really_ hates Ralph for that name.

 

“You won’t touch my kids.” she says, because she’s never liked threats. Threats to her babies? Fall under a new category of untenable. “In fact, when I get out of these-” she jiggles the cuffs against the faucet she’s locked to “I’m gonna drop your ass.”  

 

He smiles placatingly. Ooh, Iris can’t wait.

 

He starts to hold up the needle and then- a blur. Dr. Harbor shouts as the guard holding Ralph hostage starts shooting wildly. Iris ducks and prays she doesn’t die from a stray bullet in a gross basement with _Ralph_.

 

She doesn’t get shot because her husband catches every single bullet before he knocks the man out. She watches them fall into a neat pile by his feet. He vibrates her out of the cuffs before he even deals with the startled doctor.

 

“You know, for the world’s fastest man, you sure take your time.”

 

He gives her a look that- well there’s just a _lot_ going on in that look. She is _in_ for it when they get home. Iris smiles as innocently as she can.

 

“Barr- uhh Flash! Thank god,” Ralph coughs. He’s leaning over with his hands on his knees. Iris thinks he might be shaking a little. She focuses on Dr. Harbor.

 

Barry is circling him, so furious that he’s blurring. Iris gets between them.

 

“Please don’t even think of telling me not to hurt him.”

 

Iris frowns.

 

“What? No.”

 

Dr. Harbor grabs hold of her arm and starts blubbering that please he never wanted to hurt her _or_ her children. Everything they’re doing here is for the advancement of _humanity_ and-

 

Iris’ left hook is a thing of beauty.

 

“Oh, shit.” Ralph says.

 

“Still got it.” Iris brags and smiles.

 

The doctor lies on the floor, passed out.

 

Barry is not as amused as she wishes he was.

 

Ugh. She’s really in for it.

 

-

 

She’s completely right about his meltdown. To his credit, Barry waits until after they’ve debriefed about everything with the rest of the team. He’s quiet during the meeting but he doesn’t snitch to her dad and Wally at least. Ralph does that all on his own, which- she is _never_ asking him for help again.

 

“My contacts in the criminal world-”

 

“I thought _I_ was your only contact in the criminal world.” Wally interrupts and Iris rolls her eyes.

 

“You weren’t a criminal, Wally. You street-raced. Like a bored teenager on a CW show. I’m talking about real criminals.”

 

He looks offended at that.

 

“My contacts told me that there were rumors of Grodd coming back. At first I couldn’t find anyone that would give me a straight answer about that. Some people were saying it was Grodd’s son. Some were saying there was a cult worshipping him now.”

 

“Ugh. A Grodd cult. I respect furries but I have a limit. Hard Pass.” Cisco says. Iris continues.

 

“Everyone was hearing different things. But there was a common factor. They were all hearing that the Grodd stuff was going down in some suburb no one gave a shit about- Keystone.”  

 

“And you decided to take Sam Spade here to check it out.” her father says, gesturing to Ralph who is looking pitiful in his chair. Her dad’s arms are folded. Iris can tell he’s grinding his teeth. She worries her hands together.

 

“I _did_ research it before we went it. I spent _weeks_ researching, actually, and I noticed there’d been these weird city sewage complaints that were increasing exponentially in one specific area. A neighborhood just a mile away from a series of abandoned factories. And these complaints- they were spanning like _months_.”

 

“People were also talking about miniature earthquakes. Weird tremors and freak thunder that never brought actual storms. I did eventually decide I had enough evidence to check it out in person. I asked Ralph to help me.” she admits.

 

Her father is the first to leave the meeting. Iris knows he’s another level of pissed because when he hugs her, he tells her that he’s glad his grandchildren are okay in a clipped tone and then doesn’t say another thing before he walks out. She’s only seen him this angry a handful of times.   

 

Barry still hasn’t spoken.

 

He’s sits in a rolling chair, elbows on his knees and hands running through his hair the entire time she explains. The suit is still on and he’s watching the floor beneath her feet with a thousand yard stare.

 

Shit.

 

Iris doesn’t feel great about this. On top of that, she has to pee _again._

 

The room is too quiet.

 

“Well.” Caitlin is the first to speak and she makes sure to do it quietly. “I’m going to- I have a couple of tests running and I need to-”

 

She makes her escape with Cisco right behind her claiming that he actually needs those test results for the thing that he’s doing also.

 

When they get home, Barry doesn’t immediately explode. It’s the worst indicator of how pissed he is. Barry represses emotions he doesn’t know how to deal with. Iris feels like a _terrible partner_.

 

“I’m going to cook.” he says as soon as they get in.

 

Iris goes to take a shower and nearly works herself into tears thinking melodramatically about how he’s going to _hate_ her forever for this. He won’t, but she’s pregnant and hormonal and it’s been a long day.

 

She comes up behind him in the kitchen later, pressing her forehead between his shoulder blades. He makes a noise in the back of his throat, something wet and shaky.

 

Barry turns quickly enough that she doesn’t register even him moving and puts his arms around her neck while he drops kisses on her head, on her forehead, on her brows.

 

“You have no idea. You- I didn’t know where you were at first. You pressed the button on your ring and I almost had a fucking heart attack. I thought the fucking _babies-_ ”

 

He’s _crying_ and she knew this would happen and she’s crying too because she gets it. She fucked up.

 

“Anything could’ve happened to you. To all of you.”

 

“I’m sorry.” Iris blinks the tears out of her eyes. Barry still has her wrapped up in his arms like he’s trying to make sure every part of her is in working order.  

 

“You put yourself in danger for a story, which- you _know_ how I feel about that and I don’t want to have that argument again tonight. But it wasn’t just you this time. You put our _babies_ in danger. For a story.”

 

Iris cracks.

 

“I- I-” she hadn’t wanted to think of it that way. Suddenly she’s is sinking to the floor and Barry is going with her, still holding her.

 

She _never-_

 

“I would _never_ let anything happen to them. You know I wouldn’t. I- just didn’t want to feel like- I don’t want to be useless at the paper. I wanted to prove that I can still do this. I can still take care of them and be a go-getter and not the lazy housemom that lets everyone else on the team fix this city while I fucking sit around with you as the perfect dad that fights crime with the fucking _Justice League_ , goes to work, and still makes time to pick up diapers and- and-”

 

Iris sobs, hiccuping into Barry’s shirt. He wipes her face, even though Iris is certain there’s snot on her face with how hard she’s crying.

 

“Baby, you’re _not_ lazy.” Barry tells her. He’s giving her some serious eye contact, the kind that’s making her tears kick up even more because she’s confronted with how much he loves her and it’s a heavy thing. It’s awe-inducing.

 

He wipes at her slippery face again.

 

“You work so hard, Iris. I worry about you sometimes because you work so hard.” He’s rocking her on their kitchen floor, coddling her even though she’s pretty sure she doesn’t deserve it after what she pulled today. The gravity of everything is hitting her. The babies _could’ve been hurt._ All because she gets tunnel vision when she gets a story.

 

“I know I married a reporter.” he says. “I’m happy I married a reporter. I’m _happy_ I married the smartest, nosiest, most determined person that’s ever had her own byline. I love that. I love you. But we’re a team. When I’m wearing the suit and you’re in my ear, we’re a team. Babe, let us be a team when you put on the suit, too.”

 

She nods into his chest.

 

“That analogy made no sense because I don’t have a suit for reporting.” she tells him apologetically. Her voice sounds raw. “But I get your point. I won’t hide work stuff from you. And I’ll start thinking more about the situations I put myself in for stories.”

 

“Thank you.” he says sincerely.

 

Iris nods. Her butt hurts, but she doesn’t want to move.  

 

“What are you making?” she asks tiredly. She’s actually exhausted now.

 

“I was trying for chicken parm, but I think I ate all the chicken last week. I had another race with Clark and I had to refuel.”

 

She sniffs and laughs.

 

“You called me the smartest, nosiest reporter you know.”

 

“Mhmm.”

 

“...what about Vicki Vale? And Lois Lane?”

 

“Babe, you outnosy them both, I promise.”

 

Iris closes her eyes. He’s such a romantic.

 


	4. all that dampness and recklessness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are two new people in this world. All because of them.

She’s generally a pretty happy pregnant woman. Iris knows it’s a personal experience for everyone, but she’s starting to worry because she’s toting around two whole people inside of her and she really just walks around all day thinking about how  _ magical  _ it is. 

 

She’s in a Whole Foods looking for mochi when she spots someone almost as big as her staring wistfully at a shelf of cooled pineapple chunks.

 

“This little bastard will give me heartburn if I do it.” they say. It takes Iris a moment to realize they’re talking about the baby.

 

“Oh. Heartburn?”

 

“Yeah. I shouldn’t complain, though. You look like you’re about ready to pop.”

 

Iris rubs her stomach proudly. She hasn’t had much response in there since morning. A strangely calm day for the twins. 

 

“I’m five months, actually.” 

 

That gets her an incredulous look and then a pitying one. Iris can feel the _ Glad That Isn’t Me _ vibe just emanating from this stranger.

 

“I’m Denny. Seven months.”

 

“Iris.”

 

Denny looks down at the swell of their belly and sighs mournfully. 

 

“Don’t get me wrong. I love this kid, but I miss so many  _ foods _ . My life has been, like, micromanaged to death. It’s  _ fruit.  _ It’s healthy by default! But I can’t have it.” They sigh. “I’m ready for this thing to just slide the fuck  _ out. _ ”

 

“Oh! Yeah.”

 

Iris says that because she doesn’t know how to say  _ ‘actually my babies are cooler than pretty much any other babies alive and I’ve never experienced heartburn, aching ankles, or any of the other five hundred shitty symptoms that my husband and I read about on the fifteen mommy blogs we religiously check every night... but I guess the time they tried to eat me from the inside out wasn’t, like, amazing.’ _

 

Denny’s still bummed when she leaves but they seem comforted by the fact that Iris also ignores the pineapple shelf. Small victories.

 

“Baby,” she says to Barry when he’s running around the kitchen making her gourmet something-or-other. “I think the babies are making me crazy.”

 

“What?”

 

Iris pulls up her top. She likes looking at the stretched skin of her stomach. It’s fascinating in an alien sort of way.

 

He doesn’t stop but he does slow down. Iris absently thinks that that’s good. He was whisking like a monster and she’ll be so sad if he breaks the cute bowl she bought.

 

“Like. I feel so good.” she says.

 

Barry squints at her like ‘okayyyy’, which is fair because Iris is sure she’s making no sense.

 

“Remember when we got married.” Iris prompts and then he gets this schmoopy, cute look on his face that makes her bite her lip because he’s so fucking  _ cute  _ sometimes and she loves him so much.

 

“Yeah,” he says. “I remember. With the priest and our loved ones and everything. It was pretty great. You were there too.”

 

She resists throwing her neonatal magazine at his head.

 

“Well, I feel like that _all_ the time now.” she explains. “I’m _so_ happy. And all these moms are just like ‘my baby moves like a demon inside of me and it’s scary!’ And it makes so much sense while i’m just, like. I mean sometimes the peeing is excessive but for the most part I’m over here kicking it with your spawn in me and just **_loving_** it.”

 

Barry runs his hands under cold water and wipes them dry on a dish towel.

 

“So you’re worried that you’re... too happy?”

 

Iris shrugs.

 

“I don’t know? Maybe? Do you think the babies are like- altering my neural chemistry?”

 

Barry tells her that he’s thinking. He’s pushing past the immediate geeked energy he gets from hearing his wife talk about how happy she is to be having their kids and he’s listening to her, he swears. 

 

“I’m not sure the babies can even do that.” he confesses.

 

Iris gives him a look.

 

“You can run faster than the speed of sound.”

 

“Point. I don’t know, babe. We’d have to ask Caitlin. Let’s say they are. Do you wish you had regular pregnancy problems?”

 

Iris looks down at the ballooned skin of her tummy again. She tilts her head. She’s so big now. It’s actually impossible for her body to sit like she used to, comfortably at least. She can’t hunch in chairs anymore. Her organs start to feel like mashed potatoes if she bends over for too long.

 

“I don’t know.” 

 

Barry kneels in front of her, pressing both hands against the dark line that bisects her round stomach.

 

“Hey.”

 

“What?”

 

“Remember that time I got you pregnant?” he says smugly.

 

Iris rolls her eyes. There’s no point in fighting her smile.

 

“Like super pregnant.” he continues. “I did the math. Conception definitely happened around the time the entire league reappeared from that mission. Remember, babe? I came home and you jumped me and I just missed you so much that I started thinking ‘that’s it, I’m about to put it  _ down-‘ _ “

 

“Oh my God, shut up.” Iris says loudly. Barry presses his face into her belly button and sniffs deeply. Iris plays with his hair.

 

“You’re so weird.” she tells him affectionately.

 

He shrugs.

 

“You smell good.”

 

He looks up at her.

 

“I like it that you’re happy. I like it that the babies are healthy. It’s pretty cool how they’re not eating the love of my life just to survive anymore. That’s really a win for us as a family, I think.”

 

“Point.” Iris says.

 

He wins this round. She kisses his forehead and sighs.

 

“You look happy.” her dad tells her when she’s over one day, helping him make a meal large enough to feed everyone in the family  _ and  _ a pregnant Iris. Helping, being the operative word. If left unsupervised in the kitchen, Iris can still burn water. 

 

The smile on her face is involuntary. 

 

“Yeah?” 

 

“Yeah, and I’d be able to tell even if it weren’t for all that cheesing you’re doing.” 

 

Iris grins harder, laughing. She  _ is _ happy. She’s here with her family. That feels good. Pete submitted the last article she’d written at CCPN for recognition by the Grantham Institute of Journalism without telling her and she’d woken up this morning to a very fancy invite to speak at an equally fancy gala in Gotham. That feels good. Tonight, her husband is going to wash her hair the way she taught him before they married, in the big clawfoot tub that he made for her with his bare hands. That feels good. Her babies are healthy and, from what she can tell, happy. That feels good.    

 

She’s not really worried anymore that her babies are like- controlling her mind or whatever. 

 

If they are? Sick. Her kids are going to be stronger than the entire league put together. Omega-level, as Cisco would say.

 

“Life is good.” she tells him. She feels almost high with how content she is.

 

“That’s good, baby. That’s what you deserve.” he kisses the top of her head when he passes her to put the greens in the sink. Iris closes her eyes. 

 

And then she feels pressure. It feels strange. Like she has to pee, but more. Almost like a cramp. Iris sighs. When is she ever  _ not  _ running to the bathroom?

 

Then, the most mortifying thing happens when she gets up. Iris pees herself. She shrieks a little, mostly at the surprise of it, clenching her legs together. Then she realizes she hasn’t peed herself at all. 

 

“Dad. I think my water just broke.” she’s a little confused and mostly embarrassed. Her father shifts into Work Mode instantly, though.

 

“Hospital.” he says and herds her to the car while Iris tries not to wrinkle her nose at the idea of sitting in amniotic sac fluid for the whole ride.

 

“No hospital.” she says, thoughts racing. They wouldn’t know what to do. She’s having the babies, she thinks, and the doctors might hurt them accidentally. They don’t know enough.

 

No. She needs the team.

 

“Caitlin.”

 

Her dad nods, already dialing. Meanwhile, Iris calls her husband and prays he isn’t saving the city while their kids get ready to slide out of her.

 

“Hey, babe. Do you want Thai tonight? I think the twins have your spicy gene-“

 

“Barry. I think my water broke.”

 

“What?!”

 

“I want Thai tonight” she says but, like, it’s kind of hysterical. Even she can admit that. 

 

“I want Thai tonight” she keeps repeating while her dad hustles her into the car. She can’t panic. She can’t let Barry panic. Her knees feel wobbly and weak and it’s like all of the strength in her body seeped out with the amniotic fluid. She struggles to stay standing while he puts an emergency bag into the car. She didn’t even know he had one of those.

 

Her father takes the phone from her.

 

“Barry. Get to S.T.A.R. Labs. Now.” he hands the phone back to Iris and gently but firmly lowers her into the backseat of the car.

 

“Barry?” she says because she’s still in shock but at least she’s able to think now. “Please get to the lab. Please. It’s- I’m only five months. I can’t do this without you.”

 

She’s all of a sudden terrified of giving birth to their babies all alone.

 

“Barry Allen, if these kids come out of my cooch and you’re not there for it because you were racing Superman for bragging rights, I’m divorcing the fuck out of you.”

 

“I’m there, Iris. I swear. I love you, baby, just hang on. Just hold on, I’m here already.”

 

He sounds happy and scared and determined and loyal. He sounds the way she feels.

 

He stays on the phone with her while her dad breaks probably every speeding law that exists and has the profound pleasure to hear her first contraction happen in real time.

 

Iris cuts off the scream before it can exit her throat, but the pain that rocks through her core is unreal.  _ Fuck. _

 

All she can think is that she hopes these fucking kids make like their dad and be quick about this whole thing, because she doesn’t know how many more of those she can take.

 

Everyone is ready for them when her dad burns rubber to pull into the S.T.A.R. labs parking lot. Barry doesn’t even wait until the car fully stops to whisk her out of the car and into the wheelchair Cisco has ready for her by the door.

 

She feels  _ enormous,  _ even moreso than she already was, like a balloon on the verge of popping.

 

Barry has them upstairs in record time. He helps her onto the chair that Caitlin has set up and preps her I.V. Before any needles go into her though, he pauses in his frantic Helper Mode and touches her cheek.

 

“I love you. You’ve got this. And you got me.  _ We _ have this.”

 

Iris is about to tell him that she loves him but another contraction knocks the breath out of her and makes her screw her eyes shut and claw at the arms of her chair. This is payback, she thinks wildly. This is payback for nearly five months of total bliss. Her babies, are like, collecting pain taxes on her body.

 

Soon after, there’s a strange drilling feeling in her core and she can’t hold back the scream that exits her lungs. It’s  _ intolerable _ . She knows she’s crying, but Iris can’t control herself. 

 

“Get them  **_out_ ** .” she yells, panicked, because she  _ knows _ . The whole time on the ride over she was so scared of her children being delivered so early. What if they didn’t survive? But she can feel it now. They need to get out now. They’re supposed to come out  **_now_ ** .

 

Someone grabs her right hand and threads their fingers through hers. It can only be Barry. She presses her sweating forehead against his hand in misery.

 

“Why isn’t the anesthetic working?!” Barry demands helplessly and someone starts explaining a bunch of crap about metabolism and effect times and Iris sobs because she wishes they would shut the fuck up and help her get these kids  _ out  _ already.

 

Her pelvis feels like a diveboard in use at a swimming pool.

 

If anyone tells her to just breathe in the next two minutes, she’s going to be the world’s first woman to commit murder during the birthing process.

 

She can’t tell how long it is before the first one comes out. All she knows is that during the process, Cisco sticks some kind of device on her stomach that crackles with yellow and purple lightning. As if this whole experience wasn’t weird enough already. Barry tells her it’s for the children, to drain some of the dark matter they’re releasing into her body. 

 

She only has the space of a second to worry about that- what if it hurts the kids?-

 

before she feels a distinct push of something big down, down, down.

 

She hysterically and lightheadedly thinks that she’s going to start charging Barry money for having his bigheaded kids, because this is just ridiculous.

 

Joseph Donnie West-Allen is born at 2:35:02 PM on October 15th, 2020

 

Nora Dawn West-Allen is born at 2:35:52 PM on October 15th, 2020

 

Iris West-Allen falls in love twice in the same minute. For a couple of hot-footed kids that couldn’t wait to get out of the oven, they look so-  _ normal. _

 

Iris exhaustedly holds her daughter in her arms and thinks that she should at least have some cool wings or something, for all the work Iris did to get her here. And then she stares into her perfect yawning face- at her little button nose and her scrunched up eyes and her tiny ears-

 

and she thinks.

 

No. 

 

No, actually she’s perfect.

 

Barry is kissing her all over her face and her head and her shoulders and making sure to kiss their daughter too and he’s reverent in a way that Iris understands. 

 

The kids are clean and burritoed up in blankets thanks to Wally and Jesse superspeeding them through gentle baths. 

 

“Where’s my baby?” Iris croaks, noticing that Iris isn’t crushing their other kid between them. “Where’s Donnie?”

 

There’s a tinge of anxiety sitting in her chest until her father appears next to her, holding a sleeping Don to his chest.

 

“Are these kids serious?” Iris asks, sighing and laughing softly. “I did all of that work and they’re napping? Wake up, dudes.”

 

Barry kisses her forehead again. He’s got tears in his eyes. Happy tears. Uh-oh.

 

Her sap of a husband is going to make her cry if he keeps this up. 

 

“Maybe their mother should follow their example, he says.”

 

Their Mother.

 

Iris feels a swell of pride.

 

Mother. 

 

Sleepiness tugs at her, but she wants to look at her babies some more. She makes herself dizzy, starig between the two of them until Barry says “it’s okay, babe. They’ll be here when you wake up.”

 

and Iris rests.

 

He’s right.

 

They’re here to stay.

 

“We’re going to need more diapers.” is the last thing she hears in her husband’s overwhelmed voice before she drifts off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 💛


End file.
